


Flattery

by Seanbiggerstaffrox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Father/Son Incest, Incest, M/M, Massage, Praise Kink, compliments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seanbiggerstaffrox/pseuds/Seanbiggerstaffrox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>The sheriff doesn’t know why Stiles expects rough treatment, or why he seems more comfortable with it.</em> </p><p>Or the one where sheriff has sex with Stiles while telling him he's pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flattery

**Author's Note:**

> I guess the kink here would be flattery. (Oooh, apparently it's Praise Kink. Thank you Rrrowr)

So far, sex with Stiles has been, for lack of a better word, interesting. It hasn’t been bad, really, but there’s been a tension to it. Stiles likes it hard and fast and shies away whenever the sheriff goes for something gentler. The sheriff’s not really complaining, because he likes hard and fast on occasion and the orgasms are good, but he’s always been more of a slow and steady guy. He likes making love, but Stiles just won’t relax enough to do that.

After a few weeks of great, albeit frustrating, sex, the sheriff finally decides to go for something different. Sheriff Stilinski knows that when he tells Stiles to strip down and lay on the bed, the kid’s expecting something kinky. He doesn’t say anything to confirm that assumption, but he doesn’t exactly deny it either, even when he watches Stiles tense in anticipation as the sheriff takes his own clothes off. He crawls over Stiles, straddling the back of his thighs and slicking his fingers up. He places his hands on Stiles’ back, starting the massage and watching confusion flit across the teen’s face.

The sheriff doesn’t know why Stiles expects rough treatment, or why he seems more comfortable with it. He looks at the bruises on his son’s skin, collected over numerous fights and supernatural encounters. It would be easy to blame Stiles’ behavior on that, and the sheriff thinks that’s part of it, but it comes from someplace else too. Stiles has been like this for years, before Scott got turned. He’s always been more comfortable with insults and camouflage than compliments and sincerity and the sheriff hasn’t missed how he tenses up whenever he tries to afford him any genuine flattery.

He pushes gently into Stiles’ flesh, kneading over taut muscles and marked skin. Stiles bites his lip, blinking wide eyes and watching the candles flicker on the nightstand. He lets out a small, unintentional noise when the sheriff hits a particularly responsive area.

Stiles’ dad keeps pressing on those muscles, feeling the teen relax despite himself. The sheriff moves his hands up, swiping over his son’s strong back. He pulls away for a second to oil his fingers again then he circles his thumbs under Stiles’ shoulders blades, working out the stiffness. Stiles moans, his eyelids at half-mast.

“You’re beautiful.” The sheriff says softly. Stiles goes taut immediately, but he doesn’t say anything and the sheriff doesn’t give any indication that he’s going to continue his compliments. He places a gentle kiss on Stiles’ shoulder before resuming his caresses.

The sheriff works over Stiles’ biceps and feels his son go pliant again. He pecks at Stiles’ neck, listening to the soft sounds the teen makes into the bed sheets. “I love you.” The sheriff says.

Stiles doesn’t react so much to that one. It’s something they say to each other often enough that Stiles only stiffens marginally at the undercurrent of affection running through the phrase. “Love you too.” Stiles says, humming when the sheriff works down his forearms. He strokes over Stiles’ hands, caressing his palms and tickling the pads of his fingers. Stiles relaxes, twitching into the movement.

The sheriff leans down, kissing a path along Stiles’ back. The teen gasps, curving into it. His digits flex and the sheriff turns his hands and laces his fingers through Stiles’. Sheriff Stilinski trails his lips along his son’s shoulder, whispering his desire over the teen’s skin.

“I love your body.” He confesses quietly into Stiles’ ear, letting his mouth hug the lobe. Stiles whimpers in confusion, a strangled protest working it’s way up his throat. “The way you smell.” The sheriff nuzzles into Stiles’ hair, inhaling his son’s scent. It’s rustic and masculine, sweat and dirt undercut by something sweet, like nectar. “The way you taste.” He swipes his tongue over the skin of Stiles’ neck, listening to the teen’s breath hitch.

“Dad.” Stiles starts, strained as he tries to object.

“The way you sound.” The sheriff continues, whispering directly in Stiles’ ear. He knows it drives his son crazy when he does that and he’s rewarded by a shiver. “The way you feel.” The sheriff presses down, lining his chest up against Stiles’ back. His hardness moves against Stiles’ ass and they both groan.

The sheriff moves back, not letting himself linger on the feeling of Stiles against him as he separates himself, moving down his son’s body. Stiles moans in disappointment, but the sheriff presses a gentle kiss to his ass and pulls his hands away from Stiles’. He slicks his fingers up again, not missing the way Stiles tenses in anticipation. The teen expects him to prepare him now, the sheriff knows, but instead he goes to the back of Stiles' thigh, continuing his massage.

“You know I don’t need this much foreplay to get going, right?” Stiles says breathlessly, going lax under the sheriff’s ministrations. He sighs, toes curling as his dad kneads tense muscles.  

“I’m not trying to get you going.” The sheriff says. “I just like touching you. Your body’s amazing.”

Stiles whimpers, hiding his face in the sheets. “Are you going to keep doing that?” He asks. “The compliments?”

“Do you want me to stop?” The sheriff asks.

Stiles lets out a breath. “I…” He stops, not answering the question.

The sheriff places a gentle kiss on the back of his thigh. “You’re gorgeous.” He says.

“Okay, you can stop.” Stiles pants, hips twitching back.

“No.” The sheriff says. He moves to the other thigh, pressing into the skin. “I love your legs.” He says.

Stiles' face is hidden in the bedding, but the sheriff doesn’t miss the soft sound he makes. He thinks it’s the flattery as much as the massage that has Stiles reacting.

The sheriff tugs lightly at Stiles’ leg hair and the teen whimpers.

“I could touch you forever.”

“Dad.” Stiles insists. His hips arch back and the sheriff glimpses the thick hardness between his legs. His gaze drifts upward, to Stiles’ pink entrance. He lets a warm breath gust over Stiles’ ass and watches his son’s hole twitch.

Sheriff Stilinski reaches up, circling a slick thumb around the outer rim. Stiles’ breath catches. The sheriff pulls his hand away and Stiles huffs.

“If you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna do it myself.” The teen threatens.

Sheriff’s heart pounds and a thrill goes through him. “Maybe I should go slower then.” He says, curving his lips over Stiles’ left cheek and leaving a small wet patch. He nips the skin and Stiles whines.

“You’re such a tease.” Stiles croaks.

The sheriff smirks. “Lube’s on the nightstand.” He says, moving down to Stiles’ calves. The teen scrambles for the bottle as the sheriff starts massaging his muscles. Stiles falters at the feel of his father working out the knots in his leg. The kid really is super tense, the sheriff realizes, and he thinks he might make a habit of this.

Stiles retrieves the lube and pops the cap one-handed. His father’s lips brush the back of his knee and he shivers, shuffling awkwardly to get the bottle in his other hand so he can pour the cool liquid onto his fingers. His eyelids flutter as the sheriff kneads his skin and Stiles has to struggle not to melt back into the bedspread. His cock throbs between his legs and Stiles slicks up his digits, reaching back nervously. He’s no stranger to penetrating himself, but it’s not something he really does in front of anyone and his dad’s actions already have him feeling more exposed and vulnerable than he’d like.

Stiles presses a slicked up finger against his entrance, pressing against the tender ring gently. The sheriff’s hands move down to Stiles’ foot, working into the sole, and the teen lets out a surprised ‘Oh’ at the sensation. It sends pleasure rushing through him and his hips twitch, working his digit in. His dad keeps going and every time Stiles seems to tense around his finger, the sheriff presses in just the right way that the teen’s relaxing again, moaning and arching into his hand. He slips a second digit in, feeling the sheriff knead at the balls of his foot. Stiles’ toes curl and he gasps into the mattress, eyes closed and face burning.

“You look so good like this.” The sheriff says, moving over to Stiles’ other leg. The teen’s ears echo with the compliment and his dick twitches. “You’re breathtaking.” The sheriff says, kissing Stiles’ ankle as he works up his son’s sole.

Stiles chews his lip, hiding his face in embarrassment even though his father can’t see it. He shies away from the praise instinctively, having trouble reconciling his self-esteem issues with the way the remarks make his stomach flip. He feels warm and tingly, draped under a pleasant haze of affection, and a voice in the back of his head is trying to tell him that he doesn’t deserve it.

Stiles has to pull his fingers out for more lube and the sheriff stares at his entrance. It’s slick and twitching and the sheriff can’t stop himself from moving up, pressing his lips to it. Stiles lets out a surprised moan, his hips jumping back, and the sheriff has to give himself a second to get under control.

“God, Stiles.” Sheriff Stilinski says. “You’re so sexy.”

Stiles whines, curling his arm over his head. The sheriff looks up, seeing Stiles’ skin shimmer deep-red in humiliation. The lube is forgotten beside him and the sheriff runs a hand up his side, kissing the teen’s shoulder as he presses against him front-to-back. He hasn’t finished his massage but he thinks it’s best to abandon it for now. The sheriff reaches for the bottle. He wipes the massage oil off on the sheets and coats his digits in slickness.

Stiles is still hiding, breathing heavily as his hips move in involuntary motions, hard cock throbbing desperately beneath him. Sheriff Stilinski nips at his ear, listening to the muffled whimper the teen lets out. He moves his hand down, lining his fingers up at Stiles’ entrance and pressing two in.

“ _Ooh.”_ Stiles moans into his arm, body tensing and hole clenching. He relaxes after a moment, panting as the sheriff moves in and out.

“You feel so good around my fingers.” The sheriff whispers into his ear, listening to Stiles’ breath quiver. “So hot and soft.”

Stiles whimpers, letting out a protestation of “Dad!”

The sheriff slips a third finger in, going slow as he pets along Stiles’ inner walls. He presses soothing kisses to his son’s neck and shoulder. “You’re amazing.” Sheriff Stilinski says.

“Stop.” Stiles says, and his hand flies back, gripping around his father’s wrist as the sheriff freezes.

“Are you okay?” The sheriff asks.

“I want…” Stiles stops, licking his lips. “I want to ride you.” He says.

The sheriff’s breath gusts out of him. “Oh.” He says. “Okay.”

“I’m ready.” Stiles says, wiggling against his father’s fingers. “Just, lay down.”

The sheriff moves away, watching his son carefully as he lays back against the pillows. Stiles’ eyes are moist and half-lidded and his skin’s flushed and sweaty. When he rises up, the sheriff sees the full, hard line of his cock, straining in the air and dripping.  

Stiles gets the lube, wetting his palm and wrapping it around his father’s cock. The sheriff groans, unable to stop his hips from rocking into it. Stiles crawls forward, pressing his mouth against his dad’s and wrapping him up in a needy, wet kiss. He grips his dad’s dick and lines himself up, slowly moving himself down on his father’s length. They both moan, gasping into each other’s mouth as Stiles sinks onto the sheriff.

“Dad. God, dad.” Stiles pants, reaching out to clutch at him as his father fills him up. The sheriff grabs Stiles’ hands, threading their fingers together and letting Stiles grip him for support.

“I love you.” The sheriff says, watching Stiles with hooded eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

Stiles moans, mouth open on choked breaths as he moves up, feeling his father’s cock drag inside of him. “Love you too.” Stiles gasps, squeezing his dad’s palms as he drops himself down again.

Stiles sits straighter, bouncing on his father’s lap, and the sheriff watches him, glad to let Stiles take the lead at first. Stiles’ movements get jerky and unsteady as the sensation grows more pleasurable and the sheriff surges up, releasing his hands from his son’s grip and wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist, plastering his palm against Stiles’ tailbone to hold him steady. He digs his heels into the bedspread and rocks his hips into his son, enjoying the moan it elicits from the teen.

The sheriff holds the nape of Stiles’ neck and pulls him into a kiss. He thrusts into him quickly, eating up his whines. Stiles throws an arm around his father’s shoulders and holds on, panting into his dad’s mouth. The sheriff slows his rhythm and Stiles reaches back, propping his other hand against the bedspread and rocking forward onto his dad’s cock. Their breaths mingle together, warming the air between them, and the sheriff struggles to keep his eyes open so he can watch Stiles react.

His son’s moist lips, kiss-bruised and red, are hanging open on sounds of pleasure and ragged inhales. His eyelashes fan out over his flushed cheeks and his hair is slick and mussed on the top of his head. Stiles’ fingers move up, coiling into the sheriff’s blond locks as the man picks up speed again, listening to his son’s moans crescendo. Sweat builds between them, sliding against skin as the sheriff thrusts into his son. He slows again, leaving Stiles whimpering and struggling for air. The sheriff drags in his own breaths and presses desperate lips to the teen’s mouth as he works in deep and languid.

“You’re so sexy.” The sheriff says, repeating a compliment from earlier. Stiles whines and his hips jump forward. It’s the second time Stiles has reacted strongly to the phrase and the sheriff makes a mental note to say it more often. “You feel so good.”

“Oh god, dad.” Stiles works himself on his dad’s cock. The sheriff pushes at his back, bringing him forward, and Stiles’ arm trembles behind him, muscles flexing as he balances his hand on the mattress.

The sheriff arches forward, quick and shallow again, and Stiles cries out, trembling against him. “Beautiful.” The sheriff gasps, feeling Stiles’ insides hug him. He’s getting close and he works his hand between them, wrapping around Stiles’ leaking dick.

Stiles’ forehead rests against his as the teen shivers, moaning and rocking against him. The sheriff stutters, speed unsteady and thrusts jerky as his nerves light and flicker. Stiles’ fingers clutch at his hair and the teen pants humid exhales over his father’s lips.

“I’m so close.” Stiles chokes out, humping into his dad’s grip.

“Me too.” The sheriff whispers.

Stiles keens, eagerly moving forward.

“I love the way you look right now.” The sheriff says around puffing breaths.

Stiles blinks his eyes open, taking in the way the sheriff’s staring at him. “Fuck.” He moans, eyes clenching shut and face heating in embarrassment. His shuddering muscles seem to regain strength and he slams himself forward, impaling himself desperately on his dad’s length. The sheriff groans, stroking quickly over his son’s cock. He swipes over the head and down the underside, targeting all the areas he knows drive Stiles crazy.

“You’re lovely. Love you so much.” The sheriff whispers and Stiles sobs, clutching at him longingly and arching up into his father’s fist.

“Dad. Daddy.”

The sheriff’s heart skips. It should be weird, being called ‘daddy,’ but there’s something so significant about it. Stiles only says it when he’s desperate, when his need for his father spills over into something so powerful he can’t help reverting back to the childish phrase. It carries so many things with it – ‘I love you, I need you, _please,’_ – that it’s gone from immature to breathtaking.

Stiles stills, shaking in his father’s grip as he spills over the edge. His cock twitches in the sheriff’s palm and he drips white over his dad’s fingers and stomach. The sheriff rocks forward, throbbing as his son’s hole flutters around him, milking him. Sheriff Stilinski’s orgasm hits and he thrusts into his son, filling him up. Stiles shudders, cock twitching in his father’s lax fingers. He moans when his dad releases warm liquid into his entrance, painting pleasure on his insides.

They move against each other - involuntary, shallow shivers as their orgasms drag out, pulling pleasure from every nerve inside of them. Stiles swallows precarious gulps of oxygen as he twitches against his father.

“You’re beautiful.” The sheriff says.

Stiles lets out a breathless, humorless chuckle. “If you’re looking for round two, you’re gonna have to wait.” He pants.

“I mean it, Stiles.” The sheriff says seriously and Stiles blinks his eyes open.

“I know.” He whispers. That’s probably why it scares Stiles so much, the sheriff guesses.

“You’re perfect.” The sheriff moves his soiled hand to grip Stiles in place while he reaches his other arm up and cups his son’s cheek.

Stiles looks lost, unsure of what to say. He leans forward, pressing his lips against his father’s in a soft kiss. The sheriff smiles gently into the connection and lays back, pulling so Stiles is on top of him. His dick shifts in his son’s hole and they both hiss.

Sheriff Stilinski strokes over the teen’s back, caressing him gently as they lay in the aftermath, lips twined together. Stiles feels less tense now. The teen separates from the kiss, laying down on his father’s chest and breathing in deep, trying to settle his racing heart.

“So, how was it?” The sheriff asks.

Stiles groans. “If I tell you, you’re going to be all smug.”

The sheriff grins. 


End file.
